The Sniper is Sniped
by Radiator Lady
Summary: During a payload game, the Sniper is shot in the neck with an arrow and left stuck against a wall. Contains alot of blood and gore.


_This is my first Team Fortress 2 fanfiction, please take that into account. This story contains alot of blood and gore, so don't read if you're squeamish or afraid of arrows. I tried to get all of the medical/physical symptoms as realistic as possible, but if any are incorrect please tell me. Also, I am Australian so I find it easy to write about the Sniper, and the language might be different from American English for that reason. _

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The Sniper is Sniped.

The Sniper, rifle raised to eye, muscles frozen to hit the target, rounded the corner. The payload was crawling along, one Scout standing atop it to glide it forward, a Heavy and Medic pair were charging up behind him to help. Sniper had stopped in the doorway to the mine, next to the tracks for the cart. He peered the scope around the corner, pushing himself and the gun into the wall of the mine, leaving as little of himself as possible open as a target. A good fifty metres away from him, crouched on the low roof of a shed was an Engineer, clattering away at a half-built dispenser. The Sniper laughed darkly, the crosshair perfectly aligned with the still yellow helmet. Something flashed before his sunglasses, a thin streak of red pain tore at his neck and he was thrown into the wall behind him.  
"Arrghh!" He cried, dropping his rifle. He scrabbled to reach the floor, but something seemed to be levitating him. He was not standing but being held a few centimeters from the ground. His whole weight had been pinned to one point in his neck. His hands flew to the source of the pain, expecting a bullet. But there was something sticking out. Looking down his face, past his nose, he could see the long feathery end of the projectile. An arrow! An enemy Sniper had been targeting him the whole time! Hot blood coated his hands while he tried to remove the arrow from his neck. But the Sniper realised that he would have to detach himself from the wall, then cut or snap the arrow to take it out cleanly. The arrow was too deep in the weatherboards behind him for that.  
"Help! Help! Medic doctor help me!" He yelled, kicking his spindly legs in front of him. This only pulled him away from the wall, thus moving the arrow through the wound excruciatingly, and he fell still.  
"Medic! Help help!" The pain was blinding, he was shaking from shock, his blue uniform stained dark red, almost purple, and clinging to his body. The arrow had gone straight through the right side of his neck, between the spinal cord and the jugular vein and its muscles. The arrow had missed every major ligament and organ in Snipers neck. If he survived, he would still have his voice. He gasped feebly, loosing feeling to his hands and feet, the dirt below him thickened with blood. A Scout shot past him.  
"Scout help!" He yelled. The Scout was too quick and jumped into battle. A Pyro lugged along.  
"Pyro mate help!" He cried. The Pyro, through the suit, could not sense the outside world, and kept running. A Soldier lumbered up next to the Sniper, not looking at him.  
"Get off your ass and kill the Commies!" Shouted the Soldier, reloading and firing at a Heavy, before galloping away. Sniper tried to reach after him but it was no use. He was in a tunnel, the wall he had been hiding behind was close in front of him. Slowly, as to not disturb the arrow, he raised one leg to touch the opposite wall. The other leg he placed in front of the first, and walked up the wall slowly, to be horizontal. He pushed his feet into the opposite wall, which pushed his shoulders into the wall. The weight now gone from the wound, it hurt a lot less, though still far too much. The Sniper looked like a telephone wire suspended between two tall poles.  
"Help help!" He called again, though softer. A Heavy/Medic pair were running up the tunnel. Oh thank God a Medic!  
"Medic he-" The huge Heavy had run straight into the Sniper, and pushed him away from the wall to dangle again. He yelled savagely as he dropped, and felt like he were being hanged. He coughed and choked, kicked and wriggled. The Announcer announced that additional time had been added. To the Snipers count this added to approximately eight minutes. But the cart was kept moving back and forth between check points, the Sniper dangling the entire time. To everyone who passed he called for help, but none heard.

It was getting close to half an hour since Sniper had been speared, and it was showing. His head had dropped, the world was swimming, he was delirious, mumbling, shaking and hollow. His team had only succeeded in pushing the cart halfway to the final checkpoint, the point when the game would end and they would look for survivors. The Sniper had pinned all his hope, his entire existence on that point. He had stopped calling for help years ago, and was now totally alone to himself. The colours of the world were beginning to fade, the voices shouts and explosions only a quiet hum. Eyes half closed and crippled from exhaustion, he could do little more than wheeze to stay alive. Something brushed into his shoulder, causing him to sway slightly. The well tailored Spy looked behind himself and at the Sniper.  
"Urgh!" He exclaimed incredulously, pulling a face that could sour grapes. He was transfixed by the arrow, and the Snipers helpless state. He soon regained his composure, and flicked the ash from his cigarette.  
"You Snipers are so good at getting yourselves into trouble, aren't you?" He growled in a tone of disgust, and turned away. Sniper barely registered the creature. The Spy sprinted to the front, but not before he tapped a Medic on the shoulder, and pointed him in the Snipers direction. The Medic gasped in horror, following the line of blood from the Snipers neck to the large pool at his dangling feet. Medic rushed over, clipping his medigun to the pack on his back. He grabbed the Snipers right hand and felt for a pulse. It was weak. He checked the Snipers eye by pulling back the eyelid. The pupils were dilated; he was close to a coma. The Medic looked around for someone to help, someone strong.  
"Pryo!" Called the Medic. The nearby Pryo looked up and mumbled, then looked at the stain on the wall and gasped.  
"Pyro! I'm going to cut the end of this arrow, you've got to hold him and help me slide him off." The Pyro sprinted over and put its flamethrower on the ground, staring through the black discs to the wall ornament.  
"Here," Said the Medic, sawing the end of the arrow.  
"You will stand like this." He maneuvered the Pyro to stand with its back to the Snipers chest. The saw ate away at the arrow, and the feathered guide fell to the floor.  
"Alright, you and me will pull him forward to slide him off the shaft. But do not pull down, or it will worsen the situation." Carefully carefully the Pyro got it so that the Sniper was resting on its shoulders and back, and slowly the Medic and Pyro pulled the Sniper off the stick. His head fell forward as though it had no bone, and he was a rag doll, blood dripping in thin tendrils of drool to the Pyro's feet.  
"Good God" Muttered the Medic. The Pryo crouched under the wait, holding the Snipers arms to keep him on his back, the limp feet dragging along the ground.  
"Alright, back to the base." Said the Medic. The Pryo began to run as fast as it could with an extra 80 kilograms, when the tremendous victory alarm sounded.  
"GO!" Shouted the speakers, along with music. Their weapons began to glow blue, the rest of their team shouted and jumped around, killing any red in their site. Medic motioned to the Pyro, and together they headed for the Blu base.

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_What do you think? I have a final chapter to finish it, if anyone is interested. I thought it was out of context, which is why it's not posted here. _


End file.
